Story Submission by Josh, Age 21
When I was little kid I got a skateboard, fashioned an ice-cream container in to a boot, used a cushion for a seat and my feet as the motor, and that was my first car. I would drive it everywhere from the bathroom to the bedroom. I wouldn’t go anywhere, any other way when I was at home.
I have always, and will always love cars. Not for their shape, not for their reputation, but for what they can do for a person.
As I sit down and look back at my relatively short life I think about what I’ve achieved and how much I could have, if it wasn’t for cars.
I dropped out of school, studied to become a mechanic and built my own 4WD. That 4WD got me a job for one of the largest off-road publications on the shelves, that got me the experience for a management position in another media company, which got me skilled-up enough to move to yet another media company, where I feel confident, strong and capable. Three very necessary traits to survive a day in the life of me.
To me, cars are powerful, we all know that. But even cars that can’t run, projects, rolling chassis with no motors: they are just as powerful. Because they’re hope. Because keeping them alive, keeps you alive. While you build them up to their former glory, to be all that they can be – they are doing the exact same thing for you.
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